


Pulse

by bluuemoon



Category: Original Work
Genre: ? - Freeform, Blood, Gen, Gore, I was given a prompt of "House of Flesh" so I delivered, Other, rotten blood and flesh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-11-12 14:13:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18012437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluuemoon/pseuds/bluuemoon
Summary: One of my friends said "house of flesh" so I wrote. Horror isn't my forte so- oof?





	Pulse

On a freezing cold winter night, a young woman wadded through two feet of snow in a fruitless attempt to find shelter from the oncoming blizzard. She can't remember when she started walking only that some time ago her car ran out of gas and she had to stop and look for shelter in somewhere that wasn't a ten year old car, ready to fall apart.   
  
Just when she thought that she was going to collapse from the frostbite she felt in her ankles, she spotted a building in the distance. Rubbing her hands together and breathing into them,  she darted through the dense woods towards the structure.   
  
Upon reaching it, she realized it wasn't any old cabin. It looked to be a whole mansion, at least four stories high but poorly managed. It looked like it was falling apart at the seams, but the light coming in from the front windows told her that there was warmth inside. Without wasting another moment, she hurried to the front door. Tugging on her sleeve, she pulled it down enough so it wouldn't sting when she took the cold metal doorknob in her hand and twist. Surprisingly, unlocked.  
  
"Hello?" Pushing the door open, she called out into entry hall. The hall was expansive and unforgiving, nearly as cold as the outdoors. The only thing that called her forward was a faint feeling of heat coming from a nearby door that twisted into a hall. Without hesitation, she pulled up her scarf over her mouth and trended forward into unknown territory. Her voice echoed throughout the mansion, with no reply. Not willing to risk more frostbite, she walked in and closed the door behind her.  
  
She slowly made her day down the corridor, the wood creaking underneath the carpet she walked upon. Walking down the hallway, she realized that the only room that seemed to be illuminated was the hallway she walked in. She ascended a flight of stairs at the end of the creaky corridor, calling out again with a voice as shaky as the first time she spoke.   
  
"Anyone home?" She stepped out onto the second floor, rubbing her hands together as she explored the seemingly abandoned home. Aged and outdated lights flickered as she passed. Her focus was ahead, so the lights flickering out behind her didn't call her attention away from the soft blue carpet.   
  
Coming upon an intersection of the halls, she felt lost. She hadn't been walking longer than five minutes. She would have collapsed from the frostbite in her calves if that was the case. And yet at the three-way intersection, she couldn't see the ends of the halls. The only sense that came to her other than the dull ache in her legs was an unfamiliar smell. She wasn't native to the country, but the smell wafting in from the north hall reminded her of spoiled pork.  
  
Perhaps, there would be life where the only clue was. Calculating her choices at this point, she ventured on with the confidence of an anxious child. At some point she removed her high boots, emptying them of their snow as she stumbled the dimming corridors. She only paused her mindless limping when she felt something warm and wet between her toes, soaking her socks thoroughly.  
  
Looking down slowly, confusion contorted into horror when the carpets beneath her were a lively red, a crimson substance seeping up through the seams. The carpet squelched beneath her steps. Dropping her boots, she threw herself from the center of the hall to cling to the right wall and scramble for the nearest door. She practically rammed into the door, breaking the fragile wood and falling through the door frame and landing on the floor with a hard thud.  
  
The floorboards pulsed under her clothed palms, the same mysterious substance seeping into the clothes covering her front. Disgusted with herself but unable to stand with the sharp pains in her legs, she sat up and yanked off her overcoat. She felt the pulse of a heartbeat on her backside as she sat, inspected her coat before throwing it into the hall in disgust. It reeked of old blood, slightly solidifying and decaying with the old house.   
  
She dragged herself to a wall to pull herself up, only to realize that light was swiftly escaping the room. The broken door frame of the room squirmed like muscle, contorting, twisting, and reaching to intertwine to lock the wounded woman into the room. Ignoring the flaming pain, she bolted up and booked it to the closing entry. She threw her body against it in a last ditch effort, only to be met with a loud squelch and a mouth full of blood that stained her teeth and got under her tongue.  
  
She fell back, mortified and spitting as the carpet under her hands became flesh. She could feel shifting muscle and hardness of bone underneath, gushing enough of the familiar red substance to coat the entire floor in two inches.  
  
Hyperventilating now, she curled into a ball as the walls closed in on her. The flesh pressed against her clothed body, encasing her until the blood filled her lungs and her shaking stopped with an eerie silence, only interrupted by the violent pulsing of a heartbeat in the basement that rattled the haunted mansion.


End file.
